


The Worst Thoughts

by guineamania



Series: No Titans Allowed - Tales of the Doomed [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Angst, Doomed One, Gen, I only write about my DnD OCs now, Introspection, Odyssey of the Dragonlords, Potential bad life choices, sorry y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineamania/pseuds/guineamania
Summary: It should be easy to just trance and forget the bad thoughts. But when has life ever been that easy.Illiana, a cursed demi-god with a loathing for the gods? Well she can't sleep
Series: No Titans Allowed - Tales of the Doomed [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177070
Kudos: 3





	The Worst Thoughts

The worst things happen in the dead of night. It is so easy to lose yourself in the few hours where you should be trancing or at least that is what your dear sister would say if you were in the position of the wizard in question. But it was during these hours where Iliana found herself sat in the library of the academy, instead of meditating in her room to gain rest. Surrounded by books Iliana usually felt peace but in the dead of night that was not the case. Because the worst thoughts come in the dead of night. Thoughts about her fate and about all that had happened in her short life. 40 odd years of this pain no matter what her dear folks and Phrynè had told her all her life. Iliana ran her fingers through her frizzy hair, breathing deep broken breaths to try and reign in her spiral. But it wasn’t working, all because of one priest earlier that day.

Iliana constantly claimed that she didn’t need her sister to defend her. She always fought to stand on her own two feet and roll with the punches that came. That morning the sun was blazing and she danced around the crowds in the agora losing track of those who all ventured down from the academy together. “Iliana wait for us!” Acnis calls out as Iliana sprang over a crate and nearly clattered into a stall selling cured meats.

“Sorry, sorry,” Iliana grinned at the irritated shopkeeper who managed to catch the flying ham. Her spellbook thumped against her leg in its bag as she skidded to a halt to allow the two scholars who had been talked into coming with her to catch up. Acnis arrived next with the wiry teen trying to tie her braid back after the exertion of keeping up with her colleague. Cirio was far slower having stopped to pick up some spices for a new spell he had been working on and arrived at the same time as the noise in the agora began to quiet. “Out of the way, part for the seers,” guards announced as they pushed through the crowds. Iliana cursed, she had got sloppy and ventured too close to the Temple of the Five Gods. “You,” Iliana hears a hiss from in front of her as the crowds stop and an intricately robed and bejewelled individual glares at Iliana. “You should not be here, I see your fate. Your curse is lashing out around you. Begone,” the seer glares, waving her hand and the crowd slowly shifts. Iliana grits her teeth, her magic bubbling in front of her as she tries to quell it.

“I am only here for the market, I will be out of your hair oh divine one,” Iliana scoffs as her nails dig into her palm.

“Be gone doomed one,” the seer continued her assault, but did seem hesitant to step any closer to the target of her ire.

“I,” Iliana stammered, turning to see her two colleagues also backing away with wide eyes. “No need to ask again, I can see when my nefarious aura is not desired,” Iliana scoffed, feeling pain in her hand as her nails broke the skin and a bead of blood dropped down onto the floor. Trying to stop tears welling up in her eyes, Iliana used the formed corridor to escape back towards the academy. No concern for continuing her hunt for an amulet to form her spellcasting focus.

That night, Iliana snapped out of the memory as she was running her hand over the bandage protecting her wounded hand. She shouldn’t be surprised about this anymore. It always happened. As soon as anyone found out she was doomed they left. They refused to be associated with her anymore. She should just start telling people as soon as they meet. A little pained chuckle escaped her as her head thumped into her hands. Slowly the chuckle turned into silent sobs. She shouldn’t be surprised about this anymore. It’s no wonder she couldn’t trance, not with these thoughts. It took longer than Iliana would like to compose herself and praise dad that no one had encountered her here in this state. That would be the tale of the halls tomorrow if they had. Imagine, the gossip for finding a doomed demigod child of Pythor sobbing her heart out in the old magic section of the library. Iliana swiped a hand across her eyes and continued her reading. If she was going to be forgoing sleep she might as well carry on her research. Soul magic was so interesting. With the soul supposedly linked with divine provenance and fate, the fact non-divine magic could manipulate that was a feat that amazed this budding wizard.

Hours had passed. But did time really mean anything when you didn’t want to sleep anyway. When you couldn’t sleep anyway. Iliana was slowly making it back through time in the books and stumbled upon something which could be the start of a game changer. She tenderly ran her fingers across the page. It was a ritual of sorts, her eyes widening as she took in the inscriptions. All the information wasn’t here, it didn’t make it clear what exactly this ritual was but it was one of immortality. A way for magic users to tap into the magic of souls to live forever. Even death would be shrugged off. Oh what Iliana would give to not have to worry about her death again. She smiled softly. Iliana had never not worried about her death; despite how hard she tried to pretend it didn’t concern her. All it involved was a ritual and an item that could store souls. Storing souls. Of course it came with warnings and the fact that in all these books there was no other mention of the ritual was concerning. And of course, it said everywhere that this was evil and should not be attempted particularly if it was only out of curiousity … but this could be it. This could be a way to escape from what the gods destined for her. She would just need to … give away her humanity, turn her back on her life and … her sister. Iliana choked on her breath as she closed her eyes and closed the book. The temptation was there. The temptation to find a way out and to leave behind her care about the world. But she couldn’t hurt people, and this would primarily hurt the one person she could never hurt. Phrynè was her sister, the greatest person there was. Iliana could never forgive herself if she hurt her. It was the one thing keeping her from even worse decisions than she partook on a regular basis. Her phantom blue magical hand springs forth as Iliana’s eyes remain fully closed. The book is whisked out from under her and the phantom hand bobs under the weight. Soon the book was gone. Out of sight, not out of mind. She needed to read something else.

“You cannot keep doing this child,” Iliana was startled from her trance, falling backwards off her chair and sent sprawling with a wince. One of her teachers, Deacon stood the other side of the table looking less than impressed at the elf sprawled on library floor. “Trancing here damages the book you were reading and cannot do anything for your neck,” the tall half elf sighs, straightening the book she had been reading when meditating took over.

“Apologies sir I was just so engrossed in,” Iliana’s voice fades away as she struggles to remember what she had distracted herself with.

“I am glad to see you were putting thought into what to make your spellcasting focus. Knowing you I thought you would just run down to the agora and buy the first amulet you found,” she could hear the smile in his voice as she tried to straighten her unmanageable hair.

“I would never,” Iliana gasped in mock outrage but her usual energy not in it. That’s what she was doing, thinking about her focus. It was supposed to be something that was important emotionally.

“I’ll leave you to your thoughts but please stop trancing here,” Deacon sighed as he slid the book back towards her.

“I’ll do my best,” Iliana calls out as Deacon leaves but is promptly shushed by the librarian, “sorry.” Looking back at the book, a small slip of paper sticking out of the pages. Reading it, Iliana grinned. Maybe some good ideas came out of the middle of the night too.

“Little boots!” Iliana screamed down from her dorm window as she spotted the cleric crossing the courtyard.

“Iliana, please be…” Phryné shouted back as Iliana squeaked a little nearly falling out of the window, “careful,” she finished with a sigh.

“I’m coming down!” Iliana shouted back, choosing to ignore the shout of concern and only stopping for a second to pull on her sandals. Her sister was received with Iliana springing up into a hug despite the younger of the two being slightly taller. “I’ve missed you so much,” Iliana whispers into her sister’s neck. In her sister’s arms it was easy to forget about the day before. “I’ve got something to show you,” Iliana gasped, pulling free from the hug and dashing back upstairs before Phryné could get a word out. Sliding down the rail on the stairs saved a little time but Iliana returned to Phryné standing in the doorway awkwardly, with her worn and crooked shepards crook in her arms. The staff had changed since Phryné had last seen it. The groves and notches were filled in with blue-y silver gel and the handle had been formed of soft black leather. Small gems formed the edge of the handle and cast a glow around the top of the crook. “I spent all day on it and it’s magic now. I can use it to cast spells look,” Iliana flicked her wrist and a bolt of fire flung out of the staff setting a bush alight. Phryné jumped, as much in shock as in delight, and clasped her hands to her chest "That is so clever! Um. Maybe we should put out the fire. But so clever! Let me see.”

“Oh, oh yes. I can do that,” Iliana flicked the staff again and the flames on the bush were extinguished, leaving just a smoldering pile of twigs. “See it’s good right,” Iliana held out the staff to Phryné. Drawing closer Phryné followed the familiar veins in the wood with the tips of her fingers. A smile a little softer than pride tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Is this really the one you had at home? So clever, Iliana, so clever… It’s a good staff, now you don't have to worry about walking alone from school.” at the word school her brow furrowed “It’s not going to get you in trouble, is it?” Which Iliana knew mostly meant, “do not get in trouble with it”. Only Phryné much preferred to shift blame on inanimate objects when her sister was concerned.

“I promise I promise. We were told that focuses are better when you have a connection to the object and I,” Iliana pauses slightly, nervously running her fingers across the grain of the wood. “I have a connection with the staff of course,” Iliana immediately perked up with a grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Wait till we show Horace! He’s going to be so confused, poor lamb.” Horace, who was not a lamb at all, but rather the oldest sheep in the flock, was a favourite with the sisters because he never failed to look dumbfounded by Iliana’s antics, despite having witnessed many, many years of them.

“Oh yes it’s shiny now. They’re all going to love it, particularly Horace of course. He’s the best,” Iliana nodded at a breakneck rate, linking her arm with her sister’s. “Come on, you are here and we need to have some fun,” Iliana announced with no room for argument in her tone. She dragged Phryné out of the academy and out into the city, relishing in the comfort of the divine presence at her side.

That night Iliana couldn’t look away from her staff. The light from the candle refracted in the gems and cast transfixing patterns on the ceiling. “For dad’s sake come on Iliana, trance. Just lay here and trance. Trance away. Trance all night. Please,” Iliana whispers to herself, pleading but the book from the night before just wouldn’t leave her. Did she even want immortality? An elven lifespan would be long enough. But it wouldn’t be long enough if her doom was coming. It was a cowards choice but when had she even claimed not to be a coward. Phryné would be disappointed. But when was Phryné not disappointed in her little troublemaker sister. It would hurt other people. She couldn’t harm other people for her own good. Iliana groaned dramatically, flicking her hand to extinguish to candle. She needed to forget about this. She couldn’t do it and would never find the instructions for the ritual anyway. So why couldn’t she stop thinking about it?


End file.
